Dreams
by arysa13
Summary: Bellamy is home from college for the summer, and it's both a blessing and a curse that his gorgoues step sister, Clarke, wants to spend time with him.


**Written for the 2019 100 kink meme.**

* * *

Bellamy wakes up to a body landing on top of him, jolting him out of his dream, which he's pretty sure was just about to get dirty. He groans, opening his eyes one at a time to find out who his small but violent attacker is. Ah, the subject of his dream. His stepsister, Clarke. He should have guessed.

"Wake up," she says, grinning. She's got him pinned to the bed, her legs straddling him, wearing a flimsy little nightie and, quite clearly, no bra. He's only wearing a pair of boxers himself, and he's just thankful there's a nice thick duvet separating the two of them.

Bellamy squeezes his eyes shut, and when he opens them again, he makes sure he's looking at her face.

"What time is it?" he groans. He'd gotten in late last night, after the long drive home from college. His mom had been up to greet him but Jake and Clarke were both in bed asleep. Aurora had made them go to bed, since it was going to be after one by the time Bellamy got home.

"It's just before seven," Clarke tells him.

"Why?" Bellamy whines.

"You should have woken me up when you got home last night, so I'm waking you up now."

"God, you're such a brat," Bellamy huffs.

"You know you love me."

He does love her, that's no question. He's sure he'd let her get away with pretty much anything, although that hasn't always been the case. He was fourteen when his mom married Clarke's dad, and gaining a twelve-year-old sister was probably the worst thing he could have imagined. Clarke hated him too, and they spent most of their time getting each other and themselves into trouble.

But they grew close in the six years that followed, and now Bellamy can't imagine his life without her. So yeah, he definitely loves her. Sometimes he's sure he loves her like a sister, like he's supposed to. Other times… his eyes fall to her protruding nipples, and his cock twitches. The dream she'd woken him up from isn't exactly an anomaly either. And he's pretty sure most brothers aren't using their sister as their go-to wanking material.

Worried she'll guess what he's thinking, Bellamy moves quickly flipping her over so she's the one on her back, and tickling her sides. Clarke dissolves into giggles, squirming underneath him, trying to bat his hands away. They're probably too old for this now, but Bellamy can't help himself. He loves to hear her laugh, and he loves to see her squirm. He especially loves the way her huge tits jiggle with every movement.

Her nightie rides up her thighs and Bellamy's heart speeds up, sure he's going to get a glimpse of her panties. But Clarke quickly grabs the hem and pulls it down.

"Bell, stop," she says, still laughing. "Oh my god, stop, I'm not wearing anything underneath! You'll see my pussy!"

Bellamy stops, his face growing hot, his semi-hard cock jumping to full attention. He pulls away quickly, putting an acceptable distance between him and Clarke.

"Sorry," he says. He doesn't know what else to say. The only other things going through his brain are _god please show me your pussy _and _what kind of tease comes into her stepbrother's room wearing only a scrap of silk and no underwear? _Both options seem less than appropriate.

Clarke sits up, her own face redder than he's ever seen it. "I should go and get dressed," she says. "I'll see you downstairs for breakfast, big brother."

With two words, she puts him in his place, reminding him of why he can never have her, no matter how much he wants her. Sure, biologically they aren't really related. But in every other sense of the word, they're siblings. They grew up together like siblings. Their parents expect them to behave like siblings.

If Clarke knew the things he thinks about her, she'd probably be scandalised. She'd think he was a disgusting pervert, lusting after his stepsister like that. It's not her fault she grew into the sexiest woman he's ever seen. But then again, Bellamy also can't help it if he gets hard every time he so much as thinks about her.

After she's gone, Bellamy throws himself back onto his bed, covering his face with his hands. God, it's so much easier to pretend when he's away at college. Yes, he still gets hard when she's talking to him on the phone, but he can pretend it's because of external factors, and not her husky voice sounding like some kind of phone sex operator. And as soon as she hangs up, he can distract himself with some other woman.

But here, she's in his orbit at all times. She usually walks around the house in barely any clothing, teasing him, whether she knows it or not. It's absolute torture. He doesn't know how he's going to get through three months of this before he goes back to college.

His cock throbs painfully. He tells himself he's not going to masturbate over his little sister. He's not an animal, he can control his urges. But another voice in his head reminds him that they aren't _actually _siblings, and that there's nothing wrong with finding her attractive. Nothing wrong with getting himself off to the thought of her writhing around in his bed.

He looks to the door, making sure it's shut. Then he sneaks his hand into his boxers, letting his fist close around his aching cock. He leaves his boxers on, just in case Clarke decides to come barging back into his room. He strokes himself slowly, letting himself imagine what would have happened if Clarke hadn't made him stop tickling her. If she hadn't noticed her nightie riding up, and she'd exposed herself to him. God, he wants to see her pussy so bad. He wants to touch her there, taste her, push his cock inside her and fuck her senseless. She could do with a good fucking, he thinks.

Bellamy picks up the pace, continuing to fantasise about fucking her while she's wearing nothing but that nightie. He imagines ripping the flimsy thing to pieces so he can see her tits bounce as he fucks her. He imagines getting his mouth on her pretty pink nipples, sucking so hard she cries out. He imagines her begging him to let her come, and then begging him to fill her with _his _come. When he comes into his boxers, he imagines he's coming inside her, that his hand clenching around his cock is her pussy, though he knows his rough hand could never compare to her soft wet cunt.

He feels ashamed of himself for a moment, lying on his bed, panting, his boxers full of his own come. He gets up, peels them off and throws them into his laundry basket, before heading towards the shower, where he knows he'll probably get himself off again.

* * *

Bellamy has organised to catch up with some of his old high school friends that night. Clarke gets all sulky when he tells her he's going out.

"I thought you were going to be home, otherwise I would have organised to do something as well," she says, pouting. They're in her bedroom, which is weird for him. He can't remember the last time he was in here. He's avoided being in her room ever since he first realised he had a thing for her. Three years.

"I thought you'd be sick of me by now," Bellamy jokes. They've already hung out together all day. Mostly binge-watching Clarke's new favourite show, her legs across his lap, wearing a crop top and a tiny pair of shorts, while he tried not to touch her too much or stare at her very noticeable camel toe. If he doesn't get away from her for a few hours he thinks his dick might actually become permanently erect.

"Are you sick of me? Is that why you're going out?"

"Don't be stupid," Bellamy says. "It's just one night. You and I have all summer to hang out."

Clarke doesn't seem in any way placated by this information. Bellamy loves that she wants to spend time with him, he really does. She makes him feel wanted, more wanted than anyone, even his own mother, has ever made him feel. But he really needs to let off some steam if he's going to be around her all summer.

He thinks one of his friends from high school, Roma, might be down for some action this summer, no strings attached. Exactly what Bellamy needs.

"You could invite some friends over," Bellamy suggests. "Mom and Jake are out, so you'll have the whole place to yourself."

Clarke sighs. "Maybe."

"Don't be mad at me," he says.

"I'm not mad."

She lets him pull her into a hug, stiff for a moment before she melts into him. He loves the way her breasts feel, pressed against his chest. He pulls away. Over her shoulder, he notices the large teddy bear lying on her bed, one he'd given her years ago after he won it on some game at a carnival. He grins, walking over to it.

"You still have this?" he asks, picking it up off the bed. It's a little worse for wear now, the once pure white fur is yellowing, and it's missing an eye. It looks well loved. He taps its little plastic nose. "Isn't eighteen a little old to be sleeping with a teddy bear?"

"It's comforting," Clarke says defensively, grabbing the bear's arm and pulling it from Bellamy's grasp. She does seem a little embarrassed about it though. Bellamy thinks it's cute. He likes that she still sleeps with something he gave her, that she finds it comforting.

"Okay," he says. "I didn't mean to judge. I'll see you later. Tomorrow, maybe. I might stay at Miller's."

"Fine."

Bellamy rolls his eyes at her before he leaves. She can be exasperating sometimes.

* * *

The truth is, Bellamy's high school friends are less fun than he remembers. Sure, it's great to catch up with them, but he's ready to go home by nine-thirty. And even though Roma seems keen, Bellamy can't bring himself to go through with it. So he heads home. Clarke will probably still be up, and he kind of really wants to know what happens next in that show they've been watching.

When he gets home, he's disappointed to find the lights downstairs are all off, and he figures Clarke either went to bed early or found something better to do than sit home alone all night. He heads straight to his room, intending to maybe read a chapter or two of his book before he goes to sleep.

He pauses when he gets to the door of his room. It's closed, but there's a sliver of light underneath. Did he forget to turn it off before he went out? He puts his hand on the door handle, and as he's about to turn it, he hears a moan. His stomach flips over. Clarke. She's in his room. _Moaning_.

He debates with himself whether to go in or leave. Is she alone? Was that a sex moan or a something else moan? And most importantly, _why is she in his room_? He has to know. He swings the door open. He's so not prepared for the vision in front of him.

Clarke, naked from the waist up, on his bed, her eyes closed and her mouth open. He manages to tear his eyes from her naked, bouncing tits to trail down her body. Between her legs is that fucking teddy bear. She's humping it desperately, it's plastic nose against her clit. Her pussy is hidden by a pair of boxers. _His _boxers, he realises, and he almost has a heart attack. He stares at her a little longer, watching as she fucks herself on the bear. Then it hits him. Those aren't just _any _pair of his boxers. It's the pair he was wearing this morning, the pair he came in and then threw in the laundry basket.

God, he thought she was so sweet and innocent, at least when it came to sex. But now he's watching her masturbate using a teddy bear _he _gave her, on his bed, wearing nothing but a pair of his dirty, come-stained boxers. She's filthier than he could have imagined. His heart is racing and his cock presses painfully against his zipper. He should probably either leave, or alert her to his presence, but he can't seem to tear his eyes away.

She moans again, pressing herself harder against the bear's face. "_Bellamy_," she moans, and his stomach drops, thinking for a moment she's realised he's standing there. But no, she's still focused on fucking herself, whining, her face contorted in desperation. She's thinking of him. Bellamy feels like he can't breathe. It takes all his self-control not to go over there, wrench the bear from between her legs and replace it with his cock. But he has to see her finish.

She gasps for air, dropping her head, still grinding her pussy down on the bear with an urgency that let him know how desperate she is to come. But it seems like she can't quite get there.

"Please, please," she whines, echoing Bellamy's thoughts. He wants to watch her come so badly. Needs to see what her face looks like when she orgasms, knowing all the while she's thinking about him.

She opens her eyes. Her gaze falls on Bellamy and her eyes widen, panicked.

"Oh my god," she cries. Her arm flies across her chest, trying to hide her tits from him, as if he hasn't been watching them bounce up and down for the last five minutes. "Oh my god, oh my god." She turns away, rolling off the bear and onto her stomach, hiding her bright red face from him by pressing it into his pillow. "Don't look at me!"

Bellamy steps into the room and shuts the door behind him. "Why not?"

Clarke groans. "You aren't supposed to see me like this. You're my brother. It's wrong." Her voice is muffled by the pillow. She's clearly totally humiliated by him catching her.

Bellamy walks over to the bed and sits down beside her. "And yet you were thinking about me, weren't you?"

Clarke doesn't respond, just squirms with embarrassment. Bellamy's eyes rake over her. He can't really see anything he's not supposed to, now her tits are hidden from his view. But she's left a nice big wet patch on his boxers. She really is soaking. Does she know she's sitting in his dried come? Surely she must. She's not that naïve.

"Clarke, look at me," Bellamy says softly. Clarke reluctantly turns her head towards him. Her face is still a brilliant red, and she looks like she might actually cry. "I'm not mad or freaked out and I'm definitely not laughing at you, okay?"

Clarke nods. "How long were you there?"

"A while." Bellamy reaches for the bear. "So that's what you use this for, huh? You use it to get yourself off?"

Clarke nods again. "I named it after you."

Bellamy flushes. Fucking hell. Knowing she wants him too, it's a lot to handle. He knows he absolutely should not fuck his step-sister. But he can tell she wants so badly to be fucked, and by him.

"How often?"

"I don't use the bear that often," Clarke whispers. "It feels really good because it feels wrong to do that to a toy you gave me, but…" she trails off, squeezing her eyes shut, like she can't believe she's telling him this. Bellamy swallows.

"And how come you're in my room?"

Clarke won't look at him as she answers. "I was just going to sleep in your bed," she says. "Sometimes I do that when you're not here. And I knew it would smell like you because you just slept in it last night."

"And then… you went through my laundry?" Bellamy asks, reaching out to finger the bottom of his boxers.

"They were just sitting there on top," Clarke says. "And I couldn't help myself."

"I came in them this morning," Bellamy tells her. Just in case she doesn't know.

"I know," she whispers. "I—I wanted your come. I think about you coming inside me all the time." Bellamy just about combusts when she says that. She's so fucking filthy he can't stand it. "I like knowing you got yourself off in here this morning. I was pretending you thought about me when you came." She buries her head in the pillow again. "I'm really sorry, I know I shouldn't think about you like that. I'll stop, I swear—"

"Clarke," Bellamy says hoarsely. "I _was _thinking about you." He can hardly believe she doesn't know this already. Otherwise, why confess all that stuff?

She turns back to him. "You were?"

Bellamy huffs out a laugh. "God, yes. Clarke, you were in my bed wearing no panties. It's all I could think about for the rest of the morning. You're all I ever think about. For years. You have no idea how much self-control it takes for me not to touch you inappropriately. Fucking hell, I nearly died when I saw you tonight, in my boxers, humping that teddy. And when I heard you say my name…" He groans, dropping his head down. His cock is throbbing. He wants her to know what she does to him.

"Bell," Clarke whimpers. "I was so close, I—"

"I know," he swallows. Clarke bites her lip. He knows what she wants. It's what _he _wants. She rolls over onto her back, putting her tits on display for him. She watches him, looking sultry, as she slides her hand down the front of his come-stained boxers. Fucking hell. She's even more brazen now that she knows he wants her too.

"That's it," Bellamy says, unable to help himself. "Play with your clit, baby. You were so close before. Come on, faster." Clarke fingers herself rapidly, quickly working herself up to where she was before, panting, desperate, ready to come.

"Come on, Clarke, just a little more," Bellamy says. "You're nearly there. Does it feel good?"

"Uh huh."

"I love watching you play with yourself," Bellamy continues. "You look so pretty like this, all flushed and desperate. Are you gonna come for me, baby?"

"Yes. Oh god, yes," Clarke moans. Her hand stills, clutching her pussy as she comes, arching off the bed, her mouth open as she comes almost silently. "Bell," she gasps. "That was so good."

He can't help himself then, she looks so beautiful post orgasm, half-naked in his bed. He leans down to capture her lips with his, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth. She moans into his mouth, and he slips his tongue into her open mouth while his hands grip her waist tightly. She clings to his neck, pulls him closer, letting him devour her, kissing him back just as hard. Bellamy pulls away, breathless.

"You're not done, are you?"

Clarke shakes her head.

"I'm so fucking hard, Clarke. I need to fuck you. Can I fuck you?"

"Please," she says. Bellamy's hands shake as he pulls his shirt over his head. Clarke reaches for his chest, tracing her fingers over the hard planes of his torso while Bellamy fumbles with his belt and fly. He sheds his pants, and Clarke's fingers trail even lower, over his waistband, circling the tip of his cock through his boxers. His breath hitches, and he swears he nearly comes right then, with her touching him so gently.

She tugs on his boxers and he helps her get them off, revealing his erection. Her eyes are heavy on his cock, but she glances up to meet his eyes as she runs her finger along the underside, making him shudder.

"You're so big," Clarke murmurs. "I imagined you'd be big."

"Yeah? Doesn't scare you?"

Clarke shakes her head. "I want you inside me."

"God, Clarke," Bellamy groans. He leans down to kiss her again. He reaches between her legs, slipping his hand into the boxers she's wearing to feel her soaking cunt. Clarke whimpers as he presses a finger into her. She drags the boxers down her thighs, wriggling out of them until they reach her knees, where Bellamy catches her wrist.

"Leave them there," he growls. Clarke nods. Bellamy bring his lips to her neck, on top of her now, his hand back between her legs. But she's wet enough already, and she's already come once, and he doesn't think he can wait any longer to put his cock in her. Clarke seems just as impatient, reaching for his cock, teasing him with her fingers. She spreads her legs as wide as she can with the boxers around her knees. Bellamy removes his fingers from her cunt, pressing his cock against her instead. And fuck, he's so close to fucking her.

Clarke moans as he enters her. She's so fucking wet, and her tight walls feel amazing clenching around his thick cock.

"Fuck, Clarke," Bellamy groans. "We shouldn't be doing this."

"I know," Clarke says, but she thrusts against him, desperate for his cock deeper inside her.

"You feel so fucking good. I don't know how long I can last."

"I don't care. Just fuck me."

Bellamy can't resist that. He pushes all the way into her, and she lets out a small whimper.

"Okay?" he asks.

"Yes."

He pulls out. Slams into her again.

"Fuck," she gasps. Bellamy can't hold back any longer. He fucks into her, and she meets him with every thrust, humping against him they way she did with the teddy bear.

"You gonna come again?" Bellamy asks, his voice strained, desperately trying to hold on as long as he can.

"Yes. Just—" Clarke puts her hand between her legs, rubbing her clit while he fucks her. "Yes, Bell. I'm coming. I'm coming."

Her thighs tremble and she shuts her eyes, and her walls clench around him as she comes, squeezing his own orgasm from him.

"Me too, Clarke," Bellamy pants. "Fuck. I'm coming inside you."

"Oh god," Clarke moans. Bellamy spurts his come into her, satisfying some animalistic need to fill her up with his seed. He tries not to crush her as he falls on top of her, spent. He rolls away from her, their combined come coating his dick. His come leaks from her pussy, and Bellamy feels a pang of sick pride.

"I want to taste it," Clarke says. She slides her hand between her legs, gathering his come on the tip of her middle finger. Bellamy watches in awe as she brings it to her lips and sucks it into her mouth.

"Fucking hell, Clarke. Are you trying to kill me?"

"Maybe," she smirks. "You taste so good. Want to try?"

"God, you're so depraved," Bellamy says. Clarke laughs.

"What about you? You just fucked your own sister."

"You're not my sister."

"I was your sister this morning," Clarke smirks.

"You're going to be the death of me."

"Good." Clarke leans over, sinking her teeth into his bottom lip. "I'm keeping your boxers, by the way."


End file.
